Unconditional
by Gelasia Kidd
Summary: "Everyone deserves a little kindness, even the darkest of us."When the Voldemort and his followers find a strange muggle girl who seems to know everything about them, how will they handle the unconditional kindness."Every soul has a spark of light in it."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Voldemort hadn't been sure what had come over him at the time. It had started as a regular night of muggle killing, in the countryside, where the houses were further apart, and attacking one house did not alert the other.

It was only a little surprise to find the door to the cottage unlocked, as the foolish muggles had belief in their security in the countryside. It was a whole other matter to stride into the parlor to find a young girl sitting in the darkness, reading a book with no letters.

"I've been waiting for you Voldemort," the muggle girl told him, looking up at him with completely white eyes, pupil included. Her gaze was a little misplaced, in the general direction of his entrance. His followers started to react in violence, but he held his hand up and paused them.

"How do you know who I am," Voldemort said silkily, promising death in his tone. The girl simply closed her book and set it to the side, on the couch she rested on. She smiled at him, something pure and quiet in the expression. There was also something that shook him to his core, something very knowing.

"I may not see you with these eyes," the girl started. "But I have truly _seen_ you." There was something eerie and spiritual about the way she lifted her hand toward their direction. It was obvious in the motion that she was waiting to be helped up. But again, Voldemort did not know what truly came over him, as by a bizarre urge, he reached out to her and helped her up.

They took her to the base that day. Voldemort said things like 'asset' and 'pet', but even the more distant to him knew he really meant 'puzzle'. For the puzzle was that the girl was truly muggle, but knew more than a muggle ever should, insights to each individual person that would have frightened them if she hadn't been so peaceful and charming.

Somehow, she knew in advance they were going to take her. As they decided that, a surprise on their part, she simply removed a small pack from behind the sofa. It had several books, and of all things, an old worn teddy.

She was placed into a comfortable room, and left for the night. The girl only smiled kindly and said "Be careful.". That night, a group of aurors caught up with them, but because of the warning, everyone made it home safely.

It was truly a puzzle to be discovered.

A.N. I just was kind of daydreaming and I came up with this. I guess this is sort of similar to a self insert, because the girls nature is highly like my own. I hope you don't mind it. Its gonna be short little bursts, just daydreams in text form.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Ever since the ritual he had noticed little things like temperature change effected him more. Voldemort sat at his large oaken desk, working through the reports from his death eaters. Each death eater had filled out an obnoxiously long report, every report with very little data retold at least five ways an hidden in flatter to make their report seem more important.

He frowned at the reports. After the reports he had to analyze the data and write up a plan, for soon the Azkaban break out was to be pulled off, and everything had to run smoothly for that. The pale skinned man glared at the reports, wishing he had someone to take his anger out on.

And he sorely wished that he dare trust someone else to handle the reports; but no, he only trusted himself for something as important as this. He shivered, putting his quill down and rubbing his hand across arm. But not for long, the report needed to be done.

Voldemort hadn't even had time to work on his new puzzle.. besides for having the house elves tend to the matter, and keeping the girl locked up, he had practically forgotten about her.

His eyes closed wearily, and sleep pulled at him. Maybe if he just lay his head down for a moment..

The fire crackled away into embers, and the darkness pulled him out of his sleep. Voldemort jumped, feeling a weight around his shoulders. The man calmed, realizing it was just a quilt. But who? He cast a spell to light the lamp in the room.

The quilt.. he recognized it. '_What room is this from?'_ he thought bemusedly. He knew he should be alarmed, as his door was locked and warded, and for good reason. Not even the house elves could get in unless he let them.

It came to him suddenly, and he rose, taking the quilt in his arm, and stomping to _her _room. Her door, like he had left it, was locked. He unlocked the door with his key, and stepped into the room.

Through the moonlight cast by the window, huddling under a thin blanket and sheet, was the girl. She was deep asleep, but shivering. _'How did she..?'_ A glint of metal caught his eye. A muggle hair pin, warped by misuse, lay on the bedstand next to her. _'I see.'_

He glared at the girl. He would punish her.. tomorrow, he thought, stifling a yawn. Without even thinking about it, he tossed the quilt haphazardly over her, and stalked out of the room.

It didn't even occur to him to take the hair pin.

A.N. Chapter two, kinda just brain rambling again.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.. but if you look carefully, you can find magic anywhere.

Bellatrix felt sick, tired, and hungry. Her freedom was precious and uplifting, but her Lord had told her to recover and left her alone, with no contact afterwards. The room she had been placed in was classic pureblood splendor, one of the best rooms in the house, and Bellatrix knew she should be pleased.. but with her Lord gone, the room seemed very empty, and shallow.

The house elves had already been scared off, and spent minimal time in the room. She was going to hex them to death when she was well, she swore to herself. She stared at the soup on the bedside table. How in Merlin's name was she supposed to eat that soup, when she could hardly sit up, let alone lift her arms?

So intent was she in her glaring that the presence at the end of the bed came as a surprise. She had not heard the door open, but she saw it was, a crack now. Bella craned her neck, and started in surprise. The dark lady couldn't really see the persons face, but the girl was obviously a filthy muggle, and a poor one too, in simple muggle clothing.

Bella glared with all her might, and opened her mouth to speak. "Who are you, you filthy muggle whore?" she snapped. The girl turned her blank eyes towards Bellatrix and raised an eyebrow. But the child didn't respond, and simply felt along the wall until she found a chair, setting it next to the bed.

The young girl sat down, a little clumsily. "Does my Lord know there is a filthy piece of trash in his manor?" Bella snapped. The girl inclined her head but did not answer immediately.

Bellatrix stared, her patience being eaten up, but the girl answered. "Your Lord brought me here," she said softly. In the back of her mind Bellatrix was reminded of a warm wind, or maybe a lamb. She shook that thought off immediately and narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you here?" she growled, her mind spinning with reasons a muggle of all things would be in this manor. The girl responded with a comment unrelated.

"Bella, you are very sick," she said, placing her hand on the bed. "Get away from me, trash!" Bella snapped. The girl only smiled patiently and picked up the bowl of soup, lifting a small spoonful of it to her mouth and blowing in it, before offering it to Bellatrix.

Bella curled her lip in a snarl. "Like I'd eat anything _you _touched," she hissed angrily. Bellatrix couldn't move much, but she did anything she could to avoid that bite. Eventually, the muggle left, and the woman was much relieved.

But the girl came back again, the next meal. And again, the next day. And in the evenings she would bring a very strange book with pages covered in bumps, and read to Bella. Of course, Bella would hiss and snarl. But eventually she started eating, insulting the whole way. And in time she stopped interrupting the story. There wasn't anything better to do, in any means.

Bellatrix decided that she could tolerate the blind muggle servant, if her Lord had her there for a reason.

Meanwhile, no one but the house elves knew the muggle even left her room.

A.N. Another little blurb.

You know what makes me so sad about Bellatrix, is that she was conditioned into her insanity from birth. Her closest friends were her sisters, and then one of her sisters "betrayed" her. She found comfort in her Lord who believed the same ideals she was conditioned to. The Dark Arts training he gave her drove her mad, because she was taught "The Darkest of the Dark" and those are fully corrupting. Then with her stint in Azkaban.. Bella didn't have a chance.

She never learned basic family moral values that we know so well, and to respect and love others. She would never be able to acknowledge we all bleed the same red, and have the same worth; in fact the possibility would have never entered her mind, for she was never taught it.

And this had been a blue blooded practice that started in the muggle world, ages ago, when Princes and Dukes controlled the population. You'll find a lot of the same mindsets that the purebloods of Harry Potter show, in the bluebloods from the Medieval Era.

And there is _nothing_ 'noble' about being noble. I don't even understand that turn of phrase. The knights in shining armors we love to hear about would have been Royalties versions of blood traitors.

Anyhow, just wanted to ramble at you.

-Gela


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, but perhaps it owns part of me. The magic kind of draws you doesn't it?

The vision came, at first blurry, but then increasingly sharp. A picture formed of a young girl in a small but fancy room, sunlight shining in the window. The was reading what appeared to be a blank book from his view. As the door creaked open further the girl looked up with a smile, her off focused gaze showing blind eyes.

"Muggle," Voldemort said in a silky voice. He tossed a fine robe on the bed, and leveled a gaze at her. "You will be wearing that," he demanded. "I expect you to dine with myself for supper." The girl simply nodded and rose, closing the book gently and setting it to the side in a well practiced manner.

"Yes Lord Voldemort," the girl said softly. She tucked a loose lock behind her ear. Both the eyes watching and the viewer unintentionally watching felt puzzled, before turning and storming out.

The vision faded to black.

Harry sat up in his bed, the puzzlement still filling him. He had been trying to practice Occulmancy, but this vision did not seem like a purposeful share. Who was the girl, he wondered quietly. He looked out from his bed canopy and saw it was still dark. _No matter, _he thought. _I can do nothing about it now. _

He was faintly surprised that a headache didn't accompany the vision, like was the norm. It was as if something was soothed away. Young Harry didn't understand why this was, and his last thought before he slept was that the girl's eyes seemed somehow knowing, like she could see, even in her blindness, beyond Voldemort, and could see directly at him.

Harry fell asleep, and slept better than he had in months. He remembered nothing of the vision when he woke.

A.N. Another daydream blurb. 4th chapter today, haha. I can't stop daydreaming. This one is shorter than the others, just wanted to blurb this idea out.


	5. Chapter 5

A.N. Sorry for not updating in awhile. My mind wasn't pointing me in any particular direction. I'm not sure if my mind will continue to update, so I can update for you. XD

If you had asked him, he would have cursed you, perhaps to death. Voldemort did NOT have nightmares. But with what he has seen, and that time as a spirit, these dark dreams came to him more often than he'd like to admit. He had decided to ward his bedroom door to prevent entry from even the house elves after the time Severus had walked in on him.

And now, late in the evening, he was in the midst of another one. The dark reached out to him trying to drag his spirit out, while the pain he had inflicted on others turns on him, like a dementors curse. That was normal for his nightmares. So it came as a shock when a light descended flared, and he was filled with warmth, as the nightmare turned to a empty light area, with the sensation of both sunbathing and being loved, both things he could not recognize, for he had never felt. He decided it was pleasant though.

When he woke at 5am, his normal time, it was slowly for once, and not the sudden alertness of normal. He felt a pressure on his hand, and the side of the bed. It was a few seconds before he could comprehend what he was seeing. The young muggle girl was kneeling beside the bed, her hand in his, but seemed to have collapsed to sleep, her head resting on her arm.

Wandlessly, he checked his wards. They were perfectly intact. But somehow he couldn't find himself to feel violated. Laying his thumb against her hand, he lifted it, tugging on it. "Wake up girl," he said. Her white eyes flickered open slowly.

"You are alright," she whispered. "Good." The snake like man in the bed didn't even know where to begin to process that statement.

"Why do you care?" he replied harshly. "Why are you always trying to help me, us?"

She tilted her head, half asleep.

"A long time ago, you attacked a muggle hospital," she replied. "Before your first death. You killed many of the muggle patients and nurses, but when you reached the nursery, you stopped. You held your followers back from attacking. Reaching out, you took time to stroke a babies cheek. Turning to your followers you said, 'We don't kill the children; These children are the future.' And led them out of the hospital. I was already blind at that point, but I 'saw' you, and have 'seen' you since. But that part of you is gone now, and it makes me pained. I wonder where it went, and whether I'll ever see that part of you."

She stood, looking very pained, and smiled sadly in Voldemort's direction. He couldn't even stop her, lost in his thoughts, as she let herself out of the room and left.

What worried him the most was that he only faintly remembered that event, like it had been lost in time. And he wondered what did change, and made his actions turn to this. Deciding then that he had a lot of thinking to do, he unwarded the room and let the house elf know he'd be served in his private quarters today.

A.N. Please review! This chapter is actually based off a dream I had. How weird is that!


	6. Chapter 6

Walden Macnair had always known abuse. He went from the abuse of his father, and after Walden's father passed, slipped into the same servitude that his predicessor had held under the Dark Lord. Voldemort wasn't hexes at bedtime, it was always Crutacius no mater what time of the day. If you failed it could spell your death, but if one of your allies failed, as was often the case, pain was your future.

He expected pain. The animals he destroyed before they could turn on him, giving him a vain sense of control in a uncontrollable life. He had become the abuser, to stave off the onslaught of the grief he had endured. The house elves in his service often died before their time, and he had yet to bare children, secretly dreading playing his fathers role, as he knew he would.

This was why after a long bout of crucios, stumbling into the darkness of the manor to a calm study, he found something he couldn't begin to recognize.

He had only closed his eyes for a minute, he was sure, but woke to someone toweling his furrowed and sore brow with a warm damp cloth. He jerked in surprise, but when a firm but gentle hand rested on his chest he found a sense of inner peace, in complete opposite of everything he understood.

"Be calm," a soft feminine voice spoke in the darkness. "Nothing will hurt you here." The hand stroke his cheek once and lifted the towel. He almost cried out in the fear of the relief to his pounding head leaving him, but his worry was salved as the cloth returned, warmer than before. A blanket was pulled up over him, and he was resting on a softness. It was then he realized he was on a young ladies lap.

He found himself nodding off despite himself. When he awoke, the figure was gone, a small pillow placed under his head, and a gentle smelling lily on his chest. He wondered, perhaps, if it had all been a dream. But for some strange reason the pain was gone. He stood up, and carefully placed the lily in his robe pocket. He decided then not to speak to anyone of what he had experienced.


	7. Important note, please read

A.N. Sorry for those of you looking for an update. This is for all of you waiting though, particularly a recent review.

First off I beg of you to review logged in. I truly desire to converse with you, and I cannot when you are posting as a 'guest'.

Secondly, I have not given up on this story. The truth of the matter is that this story was never really meant for anyone else, as cold as that sounds. Sure I want to share it, and I'm happy when it reaches you too. This story is a pure expression of my heart, my emotions and the pain I feel when I think of people that have heen hurt, brutalized, rejected, and many others, and in the end being molded into "evil".

Many would say there was no hope for them. But I think a lot of people underestimate love and empathy. Kindness.

The next chapter in particular is a struggle for me. Because this story is so dear to me I want to stay true to it.. but the person I want to reach is Severus, and I'm not sure how without complicating the story by bringing the 'light' side in.

This story has never been about the light side. It follows no timeline. Each of the chapters are supposed to stand alone as an expression of emotion. I don't desire to turn this into a comprehensive plot, and I have no idea how to tackle this problem yet.

Because this story is so emotional to me, I can't rush it. Please be faithful and patient with me. I will update, but I can't treat this like a normal story.

I'm sorry if I upset you. It was never my intention.

Instead I prevail upon you to reach into your emotions. Write a short amount, a scene on how you would reach the dark with your kindness. Keep it simple, pure. And then message it to me. I'll add it to this story and credit you.

There is no timeline, as I said, and no structure. The only rule I have is no romance or commitment to one person. This is not a romance story. Please share with me. Ignite your heart to flame along mine.

Thank you.


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